Breakaway
by Ismon
Summary: Book one of the Everafter Saga. Set in the postFrozen throne era, new and old faces emerge to fulfill their destinies.
1. Dwelling on the Past

_**Hello to all my readers! First I wanna say that I am a new member and this is my first warcraft fanfic and I have not much experience in making fics. So I want you peepz to submit reviews; grading my performance and giving polite and HONEST suggestions. This story continues the warcraft storyline. Those who are not familiar with the setting should play warcraft three and frozen throne or at least read the warcraft storyline at http/ those too lazy or do not have the time, The prologue below will provide you with what happened in warcraft in the eyes of a man though many details are not explained now but will be revealed as this story goes on.I do not change the characteristics of the known characters in warcraft unless something happened to them.**_

**_Happy Reading!_**

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_**Prologue**_

_Three miles southwest of Lordaeron_

_How could we fall? How could the Alliance fall? Did we not beat the trolls? Did we not subdue the orcs? Did we not beat back every single obstacle thrown upon us by fate? Yet even the mighty fall. It happened so fast but it would be better if I start from the beginning. The beginning of the end…_

_The news from the northern villages at the time was alarming if not terrifying…stories of creatures... dead creatures...prowling the night hunting innocent men... All who went north never returned and many pressured their leaders to quarantine the northlands. Finally an imperial edict stated that an investigation of the north would be sent.Many cheered when they heard that the beloved prince Arthas was sent with an agent of the Kirin Tor to see what is wrong. All our hopes were dashed when the prince was accused of genocide. Uther himself said that the prince went mad and in time, his words were proven all too right. _

_The prince, who had lead an expedition to Northrend, returned a changed man. Not noticing this,his father celebrated his return and was left alone with the aged king...After he left, royal guards found the mangled body of the aged king.Grief enveloped the wartorn land but few believed that his own son would do such a thing.Our fortunes then turned from bad to worse. The order of light's brave paladins took control of the situation and established martial law. Their leader Uther however fell to the dark prince's blade and lost the urn which held the king's remains_

_With no able leader left to guide them, chaos ensued and after a month all hell broke loose. Arthas decided the time was right and took control of the undead.. Me and my family barely escaped into the mountains when he decided to purge humanity from his kingdom. We arrived at Dalaran only to find the Blood Elves expelled from the alliance and sentenced to death. There I was deemed of age and I soon started learning the basics of magic. I soon learned of another tragedy. Somehow the blood elves escaped killing the old prison guards and disappeared without a trace. This event further encouraged me to delve into the arcane arts. When one thinks it cannot get any worse, it does. The last of the alliance armies swore allegiance to a dreadlord!_

_A year later I finished my novice studies and went on to learn the ways of the sword as all men should. I found that the way of the sword was far different from the way of the staff, one would have to practice the same strokes over and over till your arms ached. However well-muscled one is, one's first try at donning armor is no pleasant task. Your body must get used to the new load. They say it must be your second skin, a thing that one must get used to._

_My sword training took three additional years of my life and now, in my free-time I still learn the mystical arts that is magic. I am amazed at how the years pass..._

_I am now twenty-one years of age. I am now a great fighter and a skillful magician. This I say not boastfully but truthfully. I have slaughtered none but the dead and half-dead beings of the world. I govern a small village of refugees with fair and able judgment. My name is Darathas, half-elf and half human. _

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_/Deep in the Alterac mountains/_

Overlooking the village, two imposing figures gazed at the small bastion life in a land plagued by undead. The taller of the two was a tall fiery redhead dressed in knight's armor. The other was a dwarf, short and hairy like his fellow kinsmen up in Ironforge. The two were best friends, known to all in the small village.

"Amazing how we survived here," the man exclaimed. "These people are my life, no call-to-arms will make me forsake it."

"But Darathas, you were at Lordaeron a few months ago. Surely you must see the dire need for men to reclaim the capital."

"Two men will not change the outcome of this war. I have not heard news of the undead invading more lands."

"You did not hear? The undead factions are fighting for control. The dead fight the dead."

"Well better them fighting each other than fighting us. All the death... sad that we were born in these times," he got a nearby pebble and tossed it far away.

"If one of them gains overall supremacy, don't you think we would be next. One thing I learned, enemies always want everything. They never are satisfied with what they have. We should attack, I say."

"Always the attacker Korith but you may be right...yet it would be evenbetter for us to leave this place. Did you not hear that many survivors are in a land called Kalimdor. I hear a new city is being built there as we speak, we could rebuild our kingdom. Did you hear?We are even at peace with the orcs, the ORCS! Years ago I would never have believed such a thing to be possible."

The dwarf hearing the last part bitterly commented. "I for one do not trust those orcs," the bitter memories of lost loved ones in the third war gave him bitter prejudice against the green-skinned creatures.

"We must put aside past grudges, I doubt orcs like the undead themselves. I am no orc lover myself,you know that but I am sure they feel the same way about us."

"True it may be," the words he grudgingly spoke. "As long as the orcs do not get in our way…"

"We better get going, dinner won't catch itself." Grinning, the dwarf licked his lips. "Oooohhh... Roasted Furbolg... Lets go then."


	2. Strom, bastion of humanity

_/Strom southwest gate/_

"Fall back! Fall back!" screamed lieutenant Matthew. The blow of the horn of retreat pulled the remaining Stromgarde men back into gate.

On top of the walls, a lone horseman commands the outer defenders. His name was lord Garithos, son of the deceased commander Garithos. He leads the whole southwest defense and the 4th cavalry division. With the last of the men inside the gate, all what was left where the dead and the approaching undead. "Men, we fight!" The orders were explicitly followed; each archer whether man or elfdrew their long yew bows and aimed straight at the enemy.

"Steady…Steady…" he waited till they drew closer. "Fire!" A shower of arrows descended not on the undead but on the ground. "Good job men!" The flames soon spread engulfing the undead into a vast inferno. "Thank you Dwarves," he muttered to himself.

The undead were slowed but not beaten by this sudden trap, the next wave followed, this time by siege weapons. "Infantry defend the gate!" The gate opened allowing the men to pass, "Archers! Fire at will!" The sky was littered with arrows as each man fired as fast and as well as they possibly could. The response of the undead was quick and demoralizing, their siege weapons firing parts that resembled...humans...what was left of them.

As the undead drew closer, each mangazed uponthevery face ofdeath. The enemy army looked all too frightening. Skeletons marched tirelessly with each of their bones jiggling with the slightest movement, big black spiders with many eyes and behind them were big burly looking things; each looking like it was a pack of corpses sewed together. Gargoyles flew through out the air looking to kill. In total, their number must be in the thousands.

Garithos talked to one of the men. "Call for reinforcements! Send for the cavalry!" The nervous man rushing, running towards the keep. _Hurry up! _Garithos told his dwarven motar teams to fire on the ground before the undead, the teams obeying without question. Bombs rocking the ground soon created a gap make trench-like ground further slowing the incoming army. Some even fell; their bones breaking into thousands of pieces. Nevertheless, many still climbed through it. _Nearly a third of their army must have fallen by now. _The many infantry set up at the gate ready with their pikes open.

The undead reached the gate, trying to break through the defensive line, failing as many impaled themselves on their pikes. Each man using both his pike and short sword as weapons, switching when need be. Many asoldier were saved by this constant switching,never letting theirwretched claws drawcloser than needed.Minutespassed butthe battle still raged onwith no side taking a break, each defensive line switching leaving the frontline men fresh. "A few more hours..."

Knowing the battle will take care of itself, lord Garithos descended to the medical postto inspectthe wounded. A pungent stench covered the air. The shrill screams of the wounded men haunting the man's steps. Many lost their limbs or were poisoned at the hands of the undead. He was lead into the priest's main office and approached the head priest. He said frankly "How many casualties?" The man's face was not that of a happy man's but one of sadness. "Five-hundred seventeen dead, one-hundred thirty-five critical and eight-hundred injured. Not counting the dead left in the battlefield." _So many good men lost._

Without another word, he left the medical post. _Let us all hope it is worth it. _He felta feeling nooneshould ever feel, thewrongly feltguilt that he was the cost of all these. He remembered his father as he walked, the proud man who foughtand died for his country.He returned to the fray, the battle still ongoing. The brave defenders of Strom holding against an army of undead really showed that the humans were all on their own. The heat of battle intensifying as each second draw on. The screams of fallen mean urging the others to fight on. He remembered the priest's face, _the sadness of his face. He knew that _m_any more will be lost…_


	3. Political Differences

_/Strom Keep/_

The great capital of Strom, once capital of the Arathi Empire has fallen since to hard times. With the rise of the alliance came the fall of the city's glory. Now Strom is the most important city besides Dalaran left in humanities hands. The city is a easily defended fortress and is connected through a series of passageways into the sea where a large harbor transports people in and out of the continent. One of the most impressive feats of architecture that remains to this day is the great keep of Strom.Walls designed by the famedgnomes and towers built by the are that their are many hidden ways to get in and out of the castle though these were not proven. The keep is so big that a forum was built for special meetings and assemblies, this is one of them.

"Greetings great lords and ladies!" Bellowed a wizened old man, "Here we decide what course of action do we take in driving out the cursed undead. I know thateach and everyone of us have lost something dear to us to them but we must put aside our own personal feelings towards them and consider the possibility of an alliance with them."

Anger and shock filled the crowd. One man even went up and roared back. "ARE YOU MAD? THEY CANNOT BE TRUSTED! THEY WOULD SOONER EAT US THEN WORK WITH US! THEY ARE THE ONES WHO KILLED OUR COUNTRYMEN, I RATHER DIE THEN CONSORT WITH SUCH... SUCH ABOMINATIONS!"

Not suprised by this sudden outburst, the speaker calmly explained the situation. "Their are two factions of undead, one who call themselves the Scourge while the other Forsaken. The Forsaken are a group of undead who would be willing to help us. If we could ally ourselves with the Forsaken, we could defeat the Scourge. Commander Garithos is holding-"

The man who had spoken earlier whose name was Lord Mathaine, erupted. "Commander Garithos? Wasn't it his father who had sided with these rogue undead in order for us to reclaim the capital? Did he not end up being betrayed by them? I will be damned the day we are allied with each other." Most of the crowd evidently supported the young lord and stood up showing their already obvious disgust and contempt with the plan.

Still unmoved by the crowd's show of disagreement, he made his voice echo. "We cannot win without them! Do you understand? Do you want our children to die? Better live and hope for the best then eventually crumble to the ground. I despise them as much as the next person but each day we lose more and more of our brave young men to fighting.We must face the truth, we cannot win this war without help."

Some of the more milder ones settled down but many more still stood._This heated discussion would eventuallysplit the already fragile government and give others the chance to take over._


End file.
